


Cold Hearted Witch

by ArkaneAssassin



Series: Moments of a Life [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkaneAssassin/pseuds/ArkaneAssassin
Summary: Pansy had never been the warmest of people, and it's harder still when you've come down with a cold.





	Cold Hearted Witch

 

**_The Potter Home, 2016_ **

Normally two days spent lying in bed, nestled in a pile of pillows, and being waited on hand and foot by her husband would be something Pansy usually adored. As she blew into yet another tissue however that was added to the small mountain piling up on the covers she’s been building since her nose decided to become a swamp oozing endless gunk she wasn't so happy. “This is your fault you know”, came out a half-gargled croak that she was sure was meant to sound threatening in her head.

“How did you come to that conclusion,” came the annoyingly amused response of her dearest husband as he lifted the tray from over her lap along with the collection of dirty dishes to go with it.

“You’re the one who suggested the children go to that Muggle school and now look,” she finished, gesturing in an immensely unladylike manner, “how is the diseased one anyhow.”

“If by “diseased one” you mean our six year old daughter you spent fawning over the entire time she had a cold,” that’d be the last time Pansy made _that_ mistake, “she’s on the mend. She’s still coughing up god knows what but at least her nose has cleared up and her temperature’s gone down.” Harry took the tray downstairs before returning with a fresh glass of water two more of those weird bitter tasting tablets that appeared to be doing little but he insisted she take. _If he’s poisoning me he’s doing a bloody crap job of it_. Swallowing them as quickly as possible she snuggled back into the pillows, “do you think you might be taking this a tad too dramatic hun? I mean you do only have a cold.”

“Given how often you were in there at Hogwarts I’m surprised you don’t remember how empty the infirmary was. Most Wizarding illnesses are dealt with rather quickly you know,” Pansy replied, insulted he’d suggest she was putting it completely on.

In fact she was only putting it on 50% at best.

Honestly if Muggles spent this long every year unwell how on Earth was it they managed to get anything done at all? She was roused from her thoughts about Muggle healthcare when her arse of a husband decided to set himself down on the bed next to her and place the back of his hand against her forehead, laughing as she shivered from the cold skin and wedding ring. Seemingly happy with whatever temperature her head was giving off he manoeuvred himself lying down next to her.

“Hmm I don’t recall that but I definitely recall the beds never being as comfortable as this one, nor the company so beautiful,” he finished before pressing a kiss to her brow.

Pansy attempted to push him away before falling into another coughing fit during which her almost annoyingly attentive husband rubbed a circle over the shirt on her back, “stop attempting to charm your way back into my good books there Mr Potter.”

“If you hate my charms how come you married me then?”

“Well you had such a sad puppy look and even I wouldn’t be so cruel. Still trying to work out if it was worth it though,” she drawled as he pulled her back to lean against him, more feeling than hearing the small rumble of laughter that followed, “and I don’t feel particularly stunning right now either having been stuck in bed for two days.”

 _Probably a good thing I can’t smell the state of the room right now, probably still better than the dorms at Hogwarts_.

Both seemed rather content to lay there for a while, watching whatever Pansy had chosen to put on the television, one of the many Muggle devices Harry had put in the house over the years that had slowly grown on her, with the “micro” something or other in the kitchen having saved her from a child’s tantrum on more than one occasion.

“So what’s this you’ve put on then,” Harry enquired.

“It’s the one with the people trapped in space and drive each other slowly mad. You know, basically our marriage but funnier,” she teased.

“I don’t know how you got into this stuff. I can understand those godawful ones like the one about those people who live in a London Square… and don’t even try to deny it, I still remember when I found you fast asleep on the sofa with the cats eating the ice-cream pot you clearly dropped on the floor, but all this space stuff?”

“Well first thing I’m going to make you pay for that judgey attitude dear and second is it really no different from you and Granger enjoying all the stuff people who grew up in the Magical world find mundane? Let’s just move past that one of the things I ended up enjoying in the Muggle world was TV about space and starships when nothing in the Magical world even bothered with things not on this planet.”

Pansy looked up to see him look back sceptical but smartly this time chose to keep schtum. Instead they lay there for a while, Pansy enjoying the first real couple time they’d had in a while, given their busy workloads as well as taking care of their unwell daughter, even if it was tainted slightly by the occasional sniffle or cough. Even High and Mighty behind her managed to find the ability to laugh a couple of times. Before too long his breathing had settled and some light snoring started to drown out the programme but she was too sleepy and comfortable herself to really care. Eventually her own eyes began to become hard to keep open.

* * *

 

Pansy slowly opened her eyes the next morning, sleepily expecting it to be the same as the previous two with her nose irritatingly blocked and a headache to rival her worst hangover. Instead she found herself surprisingly clear of mind but still suffering a cough. Also her lackey had rudely forgotten to get up and make her breakfast.

Not wanting to waste her fortuitous situation however she decided to ease her way out of bed and drag her still tired and aching form to the ensuite, stripping and stumbling her way into the shower. The moment the hot water hit her sweat-stained skin however she felt reinvigorated and spent far longer than necessary enjoying its cleansing flow. Eventually however the threat of pruning became apparent and she finally brought herself up to turning off her source of happiness, grabbing a towel from the rail before the chill set in.

It was as she sat on her side of the bed, in what was the once fluffy but now almost coarse dressing gown her sleeping idiot had gifted her years ago, squeezing the last of the excess moisture from her hair that the above mentioned finally stirred. Pansy decided that for all his faults and jokes he maybe deserved a reward for taking such good care of her the last few days. Like the emblem of her House she moved over her prey, kneeling with a leg on either side of his form, letting her robe fall loose, and leaning down next to his ear, her still damp hair waterstaining the pillows below him, “morning, I was thinking… maybe you’d like spend a bit longer in bed so I can show you how truly grateful I am?”

 For his part Harry reached up to her neck which she leant into before his rough voice followed, “that sounds nice,” only for the mood to be ruined as he suddenly turned to the side and coughed for several seconds and snorted loudly causing Pansy to dejectedly rise back onto her haunches, “but I don’t think I’d survive it right now.”

 _Well, looks like Plan A is off the table… or bed rather_.

Pansy rolled off the bed this time and tightened up her robe and pushed out her hair in a huff as she watched her Harry start coughing again, “right… I’m off to watch my “godawful” programmes,” slowly moving away to smirk as a gargled noise came from behind her, “fiiiine, I guess I should take care of you first. Tomato or chicken?”

“Any chance of Gazpacho?”


End file.
